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Sara is Off to School

Conjeevaram J. Nandakumar

    The Covid 19 pandemic has thrown out of gear globally both the corporate giants and the unorganized minnows sector alike. Many were rendered jobless and kept their fingers crossed hoping to see the light at the end of the tunnel. After a prolonged lull and sedentary life that had gradually turned itself into a stupor, finally the government announced the opening of schools the following Monday.
    Sara’s mother’s face brightened up perhaps by the immediate prospect of schools being reopened and her children’s active involvement and participation. She blessed the government official whoever he might be, since he had come with this welcoming decision to break the dangerous calm which brought more peril to her than all the storms of her tempestuous life. As a single mother with two children to be fed, taking up as many house maid jobs she struggled hard but managed to make ends meet with great difficulty and every possible manifestation of endurance.
    Finally that eventful Monday arrived. The sun was rising in all its splendid beauty. Unmindful of the daybreak Sara was in deep tranquil sleep lying next to her younger brother, but could hear faintly her mom’s yelling voice.
    “Get up you lazy bone. The holidays are over. The schools are opened today. You got to move on now. Get ready right away.”
    Apparently this dismaying perspective of a mother’s anxiety failed in producing its due effect. Sara shook her head, stretched out her hands towards the ceiling, and rolled over to her left to continue with her cozy sleep.
    “Wake up you clumsy oaf,” with that her mother administered a mean kick behind her back that instantly created the desired effect upon her intention. Sara shot up at once like a ramrod and was on her feet with blurry eyes. Then upon there ensued a full heat and bustle of the cheerful morning. While Sara rushed to commence her morning ablutions with great bustle and dispatch, her mother immersed herself in preparing the morning meal with constantly bellowing commands.
    “Check your bag whether everything is intact and also your brother’s.”
    Sara kept answering her in monosyllabic words like “Yes mom” and “Right mom”, but made it quite certain that she was fulfilling all her directions.
    The kitchen was so empty that Sara’s mother could barely scrape a meal together from the remnant of last night’s supper. During the course of the meal the young boy made gestures like various half-suppressed yawns and stretching his limbs that evidently proved the meal wasn’t palatable and he did not relish it a bit, but Sara ate it without much ado just to please her mom.
    After they had done with their frugal grub and rested for a while it must have flashed in Sara’s mind in a wild and sudden way that it was about time to set off. She abruptly got on her feet to reach for her satchel when her mother’s shrieking voice boomed behind her.
    “Grab your brother’s bag too.”
    Sara with as good a grace as she could assume did pick up the bag as directed by her mother.
    “Hold your brother’s hand. Take care of him and bring him home safe.” Sara’s mother continued with her incessant instructions.
    Sara was good looking, with a sharp nose and thin brow, and was as charming a juvenile as one would wish to see; but she had about her all the airs and manners of a matured grown up lady with amiable qualities. She smiled at her brother and held his hand in an assuring manner. She waved her hand at her mom and set off at a brisk pace and was off to school.
    No sooner Sara arrived at her school than she personally took her brother to his class and left him there seated at his place. Then she went to her class. Her class was noisily turbulent, expressive of exuberance and high spirits. It was a high treat to her seeing smiling familiar faces and hearing merry voices.
    The boisterous laughter and noise abruptly turned into a solemn silence as soon as the class teacher entered the class. She was holding a bundle of test papers conducted before the advent of the Covid 19 pandemic. She started disbursing the corrected papers to the children and said referring her mark register, “Sara is the only girl who scored above 90 percent in all the subjects. She is the topper in the glass. As a token of appreciation I am going to offer this chocolate bar as a gift to her. I want the class to give a big hand to Sara.” A rapturous roar with clapping sound erupted in the class room. Sara got up and walked towards her teacher with beaming smile on her face, received the gift and said,
    “Thank you mam.”
    Sara was apparently stupefied by the novelty of her situation. The classroom echoed with stupendous roar of cheering and clapping sound that resonated in her ears constantly and she was in a daze holding the chocolate bar in her hand. Suddenly Sara heard distorted and chaotic honking sound and angry voices that seemed to be pouring towards her from different avenues of egress.
    “Watch where you are going, you stupid girl.”
    “Out of my way you wretched girl”
    “The signal is through”
    “Don’t you find any other better place to sell your stationery?”
    “Are you daydreaming in the midst of the traffic?”
    Sara suddenly a trifle shaken out of her daze for a second and found herself and her brother standing in the midst of the traffic flow with bags full of school stationery items. Then Sara realized that she was indeed daydreaming in the middle of the road obstructing the traffic flow. She withdrew immediately safely to the side of the road dragging her brother along with her. It took some time before Sara’s pleasant manner and frank acceptance of all that had happened about her was rather real. She was absolutely confused between the veracity of the cheering laugh of her peers and angry taunting and grim laughs of the motorists and confessed the former could only have been her excited imagination. She looked at her hand. She was still holding the chocolate bar firmly. She wondered where on earth it could have come if it was her excited imagination. Her younger brother who was all along a mute spectator holding her hand firmly raised his head for a moment and pulled Sara by her sleeve and said, “You are going to eat the chocolate now. Aren’t you?
    “Do you remember who gave this to me?” Sara asked him in earnest.
    “The aunty in the car gave it to you when you tried to sell her the pen,” replied her brother.
    Sara gave a benevolent look at him and gave the chocolate to him to eat. As she gazed sternly upon him, tears rolled down her cheek. She briskly put her hand across her face to wipe it. It was followed by another, and another. She made a strong effort to control it, but it was an unsuccessful one. Withdrawing her other hand from her brother she covered her face with both and wept until the tears rolled out from between her chin and bony fingers.
    Sara now understood the stark truth and reality. She never was a school girl but only a juvenile peddler and just another earning hand to her family.
    Someday she might go to the school, but until then and for now, it’s just a wishful thinking.

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